Wicked
by Neko-chan -Silvered Tongue
Summary: YGO! and HP; It seems that the Dark Lord has finally found a new ally... Yami no Malik. [COMPLETE]
1. Something Wicked

Wicked

By: Neko-chan

  
  


A/N: "Wicked" is a reference to "Something Wicked This Way Comes," by Ray Bradbury as well as being a reference to Shakespeare's "Macbeth." Note: "Wicked" is something that I came up with when I was bored out of my mind during Economics. This is a _one-shot_. ONE-SHOT. I have way too many stories going on to start another multi-part story. However, I _may_ come back one day and expand upon this idea. But... don't hold your breath. =^^= Anyway, as far as I know, this is a new concept to the Yu-Gi-Oh! and Harry Potter crossover fandom. (If I'm wrong, please correct me. ^^;; ...) Enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: If Neko-chan owned Harry Potter and Yu-Gi-Oh!, wouldn't she be extremely rich and have no need to write fanfiction? *raises eyebrow* Yup--thought so.

  
  


~ * ~

  
  


The night was quiet at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. (Most) students were asleep in their beds--those who were not were staying awake to finish homework they had put off until the last minute to complete. In these cases, the students were hunched over pieces of parchment, quills quickly scribbling over the paper as fast as the students were able to write.

Ron Weasely and Harry Potter were two of these such students. However, Ron Weasely and Harry Potter had given up on their homework long ago--both were slumped over their desks and their books. Ron was snoring loudly, mumbling something about "Quidditch," "Cup," and "Chudley Cannons." He smiled widely, still asleep, and chuckled to himself, burrowing his face into the pages of 'The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Five.'

Harry, on the other hand, was moaning softly in his sleep. His arms thrashed out, as if trying to fend something off, and the green-eyed boy cried out. Goosebumps marched up and down his arms and the small hairs on the back of his neck stood up. 

Harry James Potter was scared of something shown to him deep within his sleep-clouded mind. Images, ghosts of a time long ago. ...ghosts of the here and now.

Harry James Potter was terrified.

The lightning shaped scar on his forehead flashed hotly and Harry gasped. And yet--still, he dreamed on.

~ ~ ~

"Yesss?"

Cold, cold slitted eyes--evil and calculating and filled with an all-consuming hatred. The man smiled and thin lips stretched to fit his pale, angular face. Those closest to the snake-like man shuddered in fear and horror. But the tall man ignored them all and continued gazing at the strange being standing before him.

Dangerous, pupil-less violet-red eyes glittered dangerously and the eye of Horus on a tanned forehead glowed even more brightly. "I... have come to offer you something valuable. Something... you cannot possibly refuse, Voldemort-san."

Yami no Malik smiled and one side of his face stretched unnaturally--was it an illusion? The spiky-haired yami continued smiling and pushed aside his cape, displaying his Sennen Rod for all to see. And the Sennen Rod gleamed strangely in the dull light provided.

"Oh? And what isss that, my friend?" the pale man asked slowly, steepling his fingers to rest his chin on them. Voldemort smirked slightly as he continued to gaze at the dark Egyptian.

"Hn. I offer my services, Voldemort-san. Whatever you need, whatever you desire, whatever you want, whatever you covet--I shall do for you. Can you possibly turn down that offer? Can you possibly take the chance of turning me away from you and your cause? Can you?" The yami smiled beautifully and Voldemort felt a frisson of fear shoot down his spine--but he ignored it. He was, after all, so much more powerful than the dark being that stood before him and his Death Eaters. If it all came down to a fight, the dark being would die and he, Voldemort, would live on--as he always had done so.

The Dark Lord widened his eyes innocently. "And why, pray tell, would you want to help me? What isss your goal? What movesss you?" Voldemort leaned forward, interested despite himself, though he was careful not to show it.

Yami no Malik's smirk broadened--did his face stretch again? Did it?

"I love the Darkness, Voldemort-san. I can think of nothing lovelier than it; I want to worship it. I want to find sacrificial lambs and send them to the Darkness. I want to create this world into something that I could love--dark and deadly and full of hatred and loathing. I want to make this world _mine._" His violet-red eyes practically glowed. "I was made from my omote's darker emotions. I am Hatred and Anger and Fury and Loathing and Death. Voldemort-san, I _am_ Darkness. And Darkness wants to destroy. Darkness wants to kill."

Yami no Malik tilted back his head, baring the column of his throat, and his eerie laughter filled the air. Lord Voldemort watched him, his eyes slightly wider than normal. For the very first time in his long lifetime, the Dark Lord--he who could _not_ die--was terrified of another being. And he was right to be terrified.

Suddenly, however, the laughter abruptly stopped and Yami no Malik shifted his gaze, staring at something out of the corner of his eyes. His grin broadened further, his face stretching grotesquely (Was it truly an illusion? Was it???), and his Horus eye created flitting shadows, making his expression monstrous and terrifying.

"Koban wa, Harry Potter," he purred. "Ore-Sama greets you." His eyes brightened and he clutched the Sennen Rod in both hands, finally revealing to all the dagger that was hidden within. Still smiling his slightly manacle grin, he drew his index finger down the blade, a trail of crimson blood following his finger's path. "Would Harry Potter like to play a game?"

A voice as deep as midnight whispered through the Death Eaters, circled around the Dark Lord like a shark scenting its prey, and finally faded into the darkness beyond. 'Yami no Game...' And, for just a short time, the sky was turned into a shade of black that was darker than obsidian.

The yami's laughter filled the night.

~ ~ ~

Safe within the stone walls of Hogwarts, the Boy Who Lived jerked awake and stared out the window with wide, terrified green eyes. Drop by drop, blood dripped down from his index finger to pool onto the stone floor beneath him.

And Harry Potter was afraid.

'...Yami no Game...'

  
  


~Owari~

::End::

  
  


A/N: *whistles innocently and edges away from readers/reviewers* One-shoooot~!!! ... =^^=


	2. This Way

Wicked

By: Neko-chan

  
  


A/N: *GLARES at 'Zoo-san* This _was_ supposed to be a _one-shot_. This was NOT supposed to be updated. ONE-SHOT. *whacks 'Zoo-san over the head* ... But... 'Zoo-san went to the dentist and the dentist subjected her to cruel and unusual things and she wanted (and I quote) "Darkness to overcome Light." Sooo... a 'sequel' to the first part. -_-;;

DISCLAIMER: Neko-chan owns neither Harry Potter or Yu-Gi-Oh!. ...why are you all celebrating? o.O;;

  
  


~ * ~

  
  


Darkness was slowly spreading, making the woods surreal and eerie and just a tad bit more frightening. Two figures quietly made their way through the forest, their footsteps cat-quiet and silent upon the bracken-filled pathway. One of the figures was tall, ramrod thin, with pale and glowing eyes. His features were grotesque and twisted, resembling that of a snake. The 'man' looked at the other out of the corner of his eyes and frowned slightly.

The second figure was long-legged, lithe and strong. Tarnished-gold colored hair stuck out in all directions, framing a face that was as malevolent as it was beautiful. A glowing Horus eye was prominent upon his forehead and rose above insanity-filled crimson-violet eyes. The second figure lowered his lashes and smiled slightly to himself, lightly touching the top of the Sennen Rod that was sticking out from his back pocket.

"All isss going according to ssschedule. I find it rather... ssstrange... how easssily we have been able to accomplisssh our goalsss thusss far." The taller figure, Lord Voldemort, paused for a moment and narrowed his eyes, staring at the darker personage with a thoughtful expression that flitted across his face. "Yesss. I do find it ssstrange. Why? Tell me, my... friend... why isss it that I find it ssso very ssstrange?"

Yami no Malik paused also and turned marginally, raising eyelids to stare at the Dark Lord. An emotion surged up within his eyes and just as quickly disappeared, submerging and joining with the other obsidian-dark emotions and feelings that swarmed and boiled within him. "Why?" he parroted back at Voldemort, eyes still wide and seemingly innocent. Yami no Malik's smile broadened and he reached out, holding his hand palm up and out towards the trees that surrounded the duo.

Thin tendrils of ebony stretched out from the inky blackness to caress his open hand and twine their way around his tanned fingers. The darkness that engulfed Yami no Malik and Lord Voldemort pulsed slightly, finding rhythm with the beat of the yami's heart.

Pulse.

Pulse.

Pulse.

"Let me ask you a question, Voldemort-san," the dark Egyptian continued, shooting a glance to the Dark Lord under once-again lowered eyelashes. "Why is it that people are so surprised when the Darkness overcomes Light and the Light falls beneath it, crushed and shattered and scattered, never to return again? Why is it so strange to picture Light finally failing and the world becoming engulfed in sweet, sweet Darkness? Is this truly such a hard thing to picture and imagine? Truly?"

"How many timesss hasss Darknesss defeated Light?" Voldemort retorted swiftly, still staring at the yami out of the corner of his eyes. Yami no Malik turned, finally facing him head on. The Dark Lord started and quickly stepped back, putting more distance between himself and the creature made from the darkest emotions known to mankind.

Veins bulged up on Yami no Malik's face and the right side began to stretch--Monstrous and terrifying were adequate enough descriptions but each came nowhere near being able to describe the yami in his full and horrifying potential.

"Darkness has... Darkness has _always_ defeated Light. It's triumphed in little ways; little ways that no one truly ever notices. The infinite blackness of space--what do you think? Does space truly have an ending and a beginning? How can Light possibly ever hope to encompass that _much_ space and Darkness? Light is often swallowed up by the Darkness--day becomes night and all the little children hide away, fearing the dark and the monsters that dwell within it. Light eventually dies and fades away, never to be seen from again."

"That meansss nothing."

The broad smile stretched, reaching the yami's earlobe. The darkness pressed tighter around them and the tendrils of ebony strengthened their hold upon the Egyptian. His soot-black lashes lowered further and he looked down upon the root of Darkness with an almost-loving expression. He cocked his head to one side, his eyes still hooded and shaded, hiding away the emotions that ran rampant through his eyes.

"Oh?"

His smile deepened.

"Is that true, Dark Lord? Is that true, Voldemort... san? Truly? Truly truly truly? If that is true, and all of the Darkness' accomplishments mean _nothing_, then why is it that humans go through life as if in a shadow of a dream, wishing and hoping and fighting for something better... and finally just... die? If life is Light and death is Darkness, then Darkness always wins because _no one_ ever escapes true death. They may live on for a while longer... or several millennia... but, in the end, the result is the same. They're all dead."

The yami's expression turned even more so contemplative.

"The Pharaoh and the Tomb Robber thought that they could escape death. They had both managed to cling to a semblance of life for so very long... they were both faded away, dead and gone and _finished_. Neither thought that they could truly die. After all, when a human had managed to live for so long, it would have been logical for them to assume that they were immortal. But they weren't~"

A giggle.

"It's strange how some people react when faced with death--true Darkness. The Tomb Robber just faded away, cackling about how he would someday be back. But how could he ever hope to return if I had blasted away his soul for all of eternity? He claimed to belong to the Darkness--I just made his words a reality. The Pharaoh fought, screaming for his 'aibou.' His... partner. How sickening, don't you agree? He fought to live so that he would have been able to spend more time with his... 'friend.' It made me laugh."

A smirk.

"I've told you, Voldemort, that Darkness conquers Light. It's true. I destroyed the Tomb Robber and the Pharaoh's hikaris, crushing their souls and shattering them into infinite pieces of stardust. The Pharaoh cried. The Tomb Robber collapsed. And my hikari--my omote--wailed in terror and fear as I pushed him out of this body and left him drifting all alone in the Yami no Game, screaming for his older sister. So... pathetic."

The smirk deepened.

Blood-violet eyes lit and glowed with a malevolency that not even Voldemort could ever hope to compete against. Before him stood a creature made from true Darkness--a Yami in its truest form. The Pharaoh and the Tomb Robber might have called themselves yamis, but it was a lie. The Pharaoh and the Tomb Robber were spirits from long-ago Egypt. Yami no Malik, however, was created from his omote's anger, fear, hatred, loathing, and darkness that had been hidden deep within his soul. Yami no Malik _was_ Yami. Yami no Malik _was_ Darkness in its truest and most awesome form.

"Voldemort... Did you know that a person experiences death when his or her soul is banished from their body and sent to wander the Yami no Game for all of eternity? They can never return because the Yami no Game never lets its victims leave. And... did you know that the Sennen Items are seven of the extremely few objects that exist in this world that can grant a person true and everlasting death?"

A chortle.

A laugh.

A cackle.

A smile.

For the very first time since the conversation had begun, the Dark Lord finally noticed the Sennen Rod that had been loosely clasped in Yami no Malik's free hand. The Egyptian paused and gave Voldemort a beautiful smile, one that was filled with malice and loathing and insanity. Voldemort took one more step backwards, his slitted-pupil eyes never straying from the yami's face.

A movement.

A dart.

A flash of gold.

A scream of terror.

Ruby red droplets falling like rain.

An ocean of blood.

A wail of anguish.

...and the Dark Lord was no more.

Yami no Malik finally raised his eyelashes, looking down at the bloodied and pale body with disinterested eyes. He squatted down and leaned over, dipping his index finger in the pool of blood beneath Voldemort's dead body. Head tilted to one side and glazed-over eyes still eyeing the Dark Lord, he delicately licked his finger, smiling slightly as the salty and coppery taste filled his mouth.

"You taste like cherries."

. . .

//There is no such thing as Immortality. Darkness swallows it up.//

  
  
  
  


A/N: One more installment and then this ficu is OVER. Next chapter: Yami no Malik confronts Harry Potter... in person. Will Light finally win out over Darkness or will Darkness defeat everything that stands within its path?


	3. Comes

Wicked

By: Neko-chan

  
  


A/N: Last and final chapter: Yami no Malik confronts Harry Potter. Who will win~? Guess you'll just have to read the chapter to find that out. *sticks tongue out* Ne, and I hope that you're happy with the 'sequel,' 'Zoo-san. *dies* ... x.x;;

DISCLAIMER: Neko-chan does not own Harry Potter or Yu-Gi-Oh!. But~ just imagine what would happen if she DID own both? *grin grin grin* ... D

  
  


~ * ~

  
  


Screaming.

Everyone was screaming, wailing and crying and begging him to save them. They were praying to him and to the Other, hoping that he--they?--would come to rescue them from their torment. Hands reached out of the darkness, tugging at his robes. They tried to pull him in, attempted to show him the suffering that they had to go through before they finally died. The boy fought against them, shrugging off their hands, fighting desperately against the grip that they had upon him.

They wouldn't let go.

The darkness became one long, never ending shriek.

...

And then, it all stopped.

The boy paused, gasping for breath as he slowly collapsed to his knees. The pull was gone and he felt lighter, freer. There was no more crying, no more begging and pleading. For the first time in a very long time, the darkness was silent. His eyes closed slowly, enjoying the peace and quiet that filled him and his surroundings.

"Gomen nasai," a voice whispered. A small soft hand cradled his cheek and the boy once again opened his eyes. Violet stared back at him.

It was a short boy with spiky red, black, and blonde hair. The newcomer was leaning over the boy, huge purple eyes worried and just a little bit sad. His lips stretched slightly, one end of his mouth tilting up to form a lopsided smile.

"Gomen nasai. Gomen nasai, Potter-kun. Boku... Boku..."

The violet-eyed boy trailed off and huge tears slowly fell from his eyes, trailing down his cheeks to drip one by one from his jawline. Though the other couldn't understand what the newcomer was saying, he could see that the shorter boy was grieving, crying for himself and for the others that had fallen before and after him. The violet-eyed boy was weeping for the boy whose face he cradled oh-so gently.

"Gomen nasai..."

"I--It's all right. I understand. Please don't be sad. Please."

The smaller boy paused momentarily, biting his lip as he went over the English words in his mind. Slowly, so as to not jumble the words together, he spoke. "I... I am so sorry, Potter-kun. Onegai... Please... Please realize that I never wanted this to happen. Boku... Boku... I... I wish you luck and pray that you succeed. Please, you must succeed!"

He leaned forward and slowly wrapped his arms around Harry Potter's neck, hugging him tightly. "I want you to _live_," he whispered fiercely in Harry's ear. "Please... live!"

The green-eyed boy blinked. "Wh--Who _are_ you??"

"Mutou Yuugi."

"Are you a dream?"

. . .

"Iie. I'm a spirit now. I've already died."

"...what?"

~ ~ ~

He slowly opened his eyes. The room was lit with a predawn light, softening the corners and edges of the room. Reality was hazy and seemed only to be a dream. He blinked and quickly sat up, his brow furrowing. ...a dream?

The word triggered a slumbering memory that lay dormant within him. A dream? There was something important that he should have remembered, but couldn't. But what was so important about a dream? Why was it so important to remember a dream, something his subconscious had created while he slept? It couldn't have been that important... right?

Harry Potter sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. The green-eyed boy could feel a headache begin around his temples--aching and throbbing and pounding mercilessly in his head.

"Why... Why does it hurt so much trying to remember??"

"Mmm... 'Arry? You okay there, mate?"

A tousled head poked its way out of the curtains in the bed next to Harry's. Ron blinked sleepily and rubbed an eye, yawning as he did so. Harry smiled slightly as he noticed several locks of Ron's hair that were standing up on his head, giving his best friend a rather devilish appearance. For the first time in a long while, Harry laughed quietly. The red-headed boy blinked again and stared at Harry quizzically. 

"Huh?"

"Nothing, Ron. Just... nothing."

Ron shrugged and once again disappeared behind his bed's curtains. Harry could hear him shift around on the bed, returning and burrowing underneath the covers. The Boy Who Lived shook his head at his friend's antics and continued rubbing his nose's bridge, hoping to somehow relieve the pressure that continued to build up.

"Oi, and Harry...? If your headache has been giving you this much grief, just give up and go to the Infirmary. You'll be patched up in no time. 'Sides... You've been having these headaches every morning for the past month or so. They're kinda worrying me, so just go and get yourself checked out. Okay?" 

The boy paused and looked over at the other bed in surprise. 'He... knew? All this time and he knew about my headaches all along?'

Harry sighed and slid out of bed, his toes curling as his skin met cold stone. He quickly shrugged into his robes and made his way towards the stairway that led to the Common Room below. Before he could disappear completely from sight, a loud snore from Ron's canopied bed alerted him to the fact that his best friend had fallen asleep once again. Harry rolled his eyes in exasperation, idly wondering to himself when the red-head would manage to drag himself out of bed and join the living in the Common Room and the Great Hall below.

The green-eyed boy made his way down the stairs, stepping quickly so that he could avoid the cold stone floor as much as possible. The month of December was just beginning and the whole entire castle was freezing--Harry could see his breath fogging in the air before him. He zipped through the Common Room and pushed up the portrait of the Fat Lady, finally stepping out into one of the main corridors with his right foot.

The boy brought his left foot down and stepped on something soft and fluffy, warm against his cool skin.

Harry blinked and looked down, staring at the object in avid curiosity. It was a feather. Smooth and beautifully formed--white and seeming to almost glow against the dark stone floor it rested upon. It was a down feather... an owl's down feather.

A white feather.

A _white_ feather.

An _owl's_ white feather.

It almost looked like...

Like...

Harry blinked again and slowly looked up. The feather wasn't alone--just off to the side, making their way down the corridor and sliding down the stairs that were located at the end of the corridor--there was a trail of _white owl feathers_.

~"Oooh! Look at the snowy owl!" An envious sigh. "She's so beautiful! I wonder who she belongs to?"~

...

"HEDWIG!!!"

Feet pounded on the floor and a young man with dark hair and flashing green eyes quickly darted down the corridor, and ran down the stairway, skipping several steps at a time to quicken his pace. He hoped--prayed--that he would be able to make his way to his owl in time to save her. What he didn't know was that he was charging full tilt into a trap.

As the dark-haired boy disappeared from view, a smaller figure stood overlooked in a doorway. He frowned unhappily, violet eyes sad and grieving for the future that had yet to occur. Eyes still on the path that Harry Potter had taken, the short boy slowly faded from sight, returning once again to the realm of which he now belonged to.

"Gomen nasai, Potter-kun. Gomen nasai."

~ * ~

The dungeons deep underneath Hogwarts school were shadowed, hidden crevices scattered everywhere. Potholes and cracks marred the floor, making footing treacherous and chancy at the very best. Quiet crying echoed off of the broken and chipped walls.

A dark-haired figure had collapsed to his knees within the deepest and darkest room, huddled over a small broken and twisted form. The boy clutched the owl to his chest, swallowing hiccuping sobs as he cradled Hedwig closer to his heart.

The owl was cool--and had been for quite some time.

"How does death feel, Harry Potter? Does it hurt? Does it burn? Do you want to kill and hate and destroy, hoping others will feel the anger and loathing deep within you? How does it feel to _hate_, Harry Potter? The Darkness tastes so delicious, doesn't it?"

The boy gasped and his head jerked up, scanning the shadows with wide, frightened eyes. Harry lost his balance and fell back, pushing his back up against the nearest wall so that whoever had spoke couldn't sneak up behind him. "Who are you?" he yelled into the dark room. "_Who are you_?!"

There was a deep-throated chuckle and a tan cargo-pants clad leg slowly stepped into the light. The rest of the figure followed soon after, staring down at the green-eyed boy with a sadistic and malevolent expression on his face. Hair stuck out at all angles, thick and prominent and sharp. A glowing eye materialized on his forehead while soot-black lashes lowered slightly, giving the newcomer an almost cat-that-got-the-canary expression.

"..._what_ are you?"

The person smirked and his eyelashes raised, revealing eyes that looked to be violet... until the meager amount of light reached them and turned them a demonic shade of red. Blood-violet eyes.

"My name is Yami no Malik, Harry Potter. Doesn't Harry Potter remember who Yami no Malik is? Doesn't he? After all, when the Light finally has the chance to meet the Darkness, how could the Light ever possibly forget its chance meeting with Darkness? Darkness taints the Light and _makes_ it so that the Light cannot ever forget it. You asked me what I am, Harry Potter. And I shall answer you. Ore-sama... _I_ am Darkness."

"W--What?"

"I am the darker side of humanity. Such a chilling thought, ne?"

Harry tightened his hold on Hedwig's body, a slight tremor rocking his body. He was scared--how could he not be? But the Boy Who Lived wasn't going to give in and clue 'Yami no Malik' in on the fact that he _was_ scared. And yet... if he admitted it to himself, he wasn't exactly scared. He was _terrified_ of the dark figure before him. He was terrified of what the dark figure was capable of achieving.

Yami no Malik tilted his head to one side, squatting down so that he was eye to eye with Harry. He slowly closed and opened his crimson-tinted eyes; as he stared at Harry, the blood-violet eyes glazed over slightly. As the boy watched, Yami no Malik's 'self'--his consciousness, what made him the being who he was--slowly receded and his body became an empty shell, filled only with an emotion that few had the... 'privilege'... to experience. Pure, unadulterated hatred.

"I hate the Light," the yami hissed, leaning forward to whisper in Harry's ear. The boy shivered as a spike of hair softly brushed his cheek. "I hate it so much. It burns and crushes and tears apart everything that ever mattered to me. The Light banished me, hating me for being who I was created to be. And yet... The Light didn't win because before it could destroy me, Darkness took me in and sheltered me; shaping me; nursing me. The Darkness let me live just a little bit longer."

The Egyptian chortled happily and the green-eyed boy could see Yami no Malik's sadistic grin out of the corner of his eyes, the smile twisting and distorting the young man. The right side of his face elongated, stretching impossibly. The shivering began anew.

"For the Darkness, I'll destroy the Light. I'll sacrifice those that stand in my way. I'll sacrifice those who love and adore and worship the Light, reveling in its power. I'll kill you all, shatter the Light, and bask in the Darkness' glory, gloating in the fact that--no matter HOW hard you try--you'll _never_ be able to defeat me. You'll never be able to defeat Darkness. Darkness consumes all."

"That's not true."

"Oh? Really?"

"Yes..."

"Then you're lying to yourself."

There was a glimmer of gold and Harry found himself staring at an ancient looking eye, one that was similar to the glowing eye that was located on Yami no Malik's forehead. The eye of Horus. The Boy Who Lived continued staring at the eye and... and... and...

* * *

He slowly opened his eyes--everything was hazy and cloudy and indistinct. There was a blur of red above him and a flash of color surrounded by black off to the side. What...?

"Wh--Where am I? Who are you? I don't understand anything that's going on!!!"

Harry sat up and rubbed frantically at his eyes, desperate for them to clear. He finally blinked and stared at what had been the red blur. It was a woman. Turning his head quickly to one side, he stared at what had once been bright, colorful eyes surrounding by black, unruly hair: A man.

The man and woman weren't strangers to him. Every single time he opened the photo album that Hagrid had given to him, these two people smiled and waved at him, tightly holding a baby boy with black hair and eyes that looked like emeralds close to their bodies. They looked happy in the photographs. They looked happy now.

"... Mum? Dad?"

"Hello, Harry. It's been a while," the man--his Dad?--answered, grinning broadly down at his son. It was so eerie--it was like looking into a mirror, seeing an exact replica of himself only with small imperfections here and there. Disturbing, most definitely. 

"We've missed you so much," the woman continued. "It's been so long; so very, very long..."

It truly _was_ his Mum and Dad. After so many years of being alone, wondering what had happened to his parents, grieving and torn apart with the knowledge that his enemy had killed them, murdered them while they tried to protect him... Hiding in the shadows while watching and yearning as his friends and their families interacted--loving each other, being together, not knowing or realizing what hell it was for Harry to watch them all, knowing that he could never be a part of it... But his parents were here now. _They were here._

"MUM! DAD!"

He lunged forward, wrapping his arms around his mother's waist and holding onto her tightly. Now that he had the chance to finally see them again, he was never letting go. Never. The boy started crying, huge wracking sobs shaking his body with their force. The red-headed woman faltered for a moment, but soon wrapped her own arms around Harry's shivering and shaking body, holding her son close.

"Shhh... Shhh... It's all right now, Harry. Everything is all right. We're all together now. You, me, your father--we're a family again. It's all right..." she murmured, gently brushing Harry's bangs away from his flushed face. She kissed his forehead and her husband came closer, wrapping his own arm around Lily's shoulders.

"Hush little baby, don't say a word; Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird..."

* * *

"Hush little baby, don't say a word; Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird..."

The dagger that was hidden within the Sennen Rod slid against the pale throat, cutting through the skin as easily as cutting through fine, smooth silk. The wound was clean and blood quickly pooled over the gash, making its way down the boy's flesh. Yami no Malik began to hum contentedly to himself, smiling as Harry's bright eyes faded and dulled and became glassy. The Boy Who Lived slumped over, eventually falling to the cold stone beneath him.

"Hush little baby, don't say a word..."

Emerald green eyes slowly closed and a tear fell, making its wet pathway down cheekbones and skin, dripping to the ground with a small, single gasp of sound. The Boy Who Lived's chest faltered and did not rise again. And that was the end.

~ * ~

Darkness spread upon the Earth and the Light faded away, disappearing forever.

  
  


~OWARI~

::END::

  
  
  
  


A/N: ...and 'Zoo-san got the ending that she wanted. Darkness overcame Light. And now Neko-chan shall celebrate because 1) She managed to finish another chaptered fic (though it was supposed to be a _one-shot_; 2) She wrote an acceptable Harry Potter/YGO! crossover; and 3) She finally realized why E-chan described her as sadistic, enjoying playing with people's minds before she eventually screws them over. *shakes fist at E-chan* ... P ... Finally: 4) Linkin Park is still, and forever shall be, an excellent band to listen to whilst writing. ... XD

This is the end~ ... Ja!

=^^=

~Neko-chan 


End file.
